Rules of Paint
by TheLoversTheDreamersAndMe
Summary: A note slid under the door of Sabine's door. Setting down her airbrush, she went a picked up the paper. The heading was "Rules of Paint". Sabine rolled her eyes and began to read. Or, wherein Sabine breaks every rule on the list. Complete.
1. Rules

New story, because inspiration struck.

 _ **Rules of Paint**_

\- Do not, under any circumstances, paint Hera's cabin.

\- Do not paint anyone else's cabin.

\- Paint stays out of the cockpit. Period.

\- Don't touch the droid. Just don't.

\- Hair paint is strictly for your hair only.

\- Don't leave paint jars open when the _Ghost_ is in the air.

\- Painting the outside of the _Ghost_ is off limits. You do, you die.

\- Do not paint the _Phantom_ either.

\- No explosive paint anywhere near a fire source.

Hang this on your wall.

Sincerely, Hera.


	2. Rule 1

Rule 1: Do not paint Hera's cabin.

"Sabine Wren!" Hera's irritated shout echoed down the hallway as she stood in the doorway of her cabin, hands on hips. Footsteps patter down the corridor as a thirteen-year-old Sabine Wren came screeching to a halt in front of the ship's captain.

"What?" She asked, imitating Hera's posture.

"What is that?" Hera asked, stepping aside so Sabine could get a good look at the mural on the back wall of Hera's bedroom. It was a characterature of Hera, crouched into a shooting position, with Chopper tucked behind her leg.

"A picture of you and Chopper?" Sabine offered, ducking her head impishly.

"Annnnddd did you paint this picture?" Hera pressed, scowling slightly.

"Um, yes?" Sabine replied, offering a wry grin. She scuffed a toe of her boot against the floor.

"Take it off," Hera ordered, pointing at the picture. "I thought I told you not to paint anyone else's quarters." Sabine's eyes were downcast, though the mischievous glint was still there.

"Okay," Sabine replied, thankful the paint hadn't dried fully yet. Many minutes and sore biceps later, Sabine had successfully gotten the characterature off the wall. Finally emerging from Hera's bedroom, she found the ship's captain and Kanan sitting in the common room sipping caf.

"Is it gone?" Hera asked. Sabine nodded.

"Yup."

"Good, thank you," Hera replied as Sabine turned on her heel to recreate the drawing in her bedroom.

 _Later that night..._

As Hera climbed into bed, she noticed a tiny drawing of herself and Sabine painted carefully on the post of her bunk. Hera's irritated cry sounded through the corridor.

"SABINE!"

In her own room, Sabine smirked and pulled her blanket over her head.

...

Yeah, so these will be really short, but it's gonna be a fun story full of mischief.

Guest: each rule will be a separate chapter.


	3. Rule 2

Rule 2: Don't paint anyone else's cabin either.

Sabine quickly finished her painting in Zeb's cabin, shoving her air brush in her belt. Stepping back, she surveyed the picture with a smirk and a twinkle in her eyes. It was a picture of Chopper shocking Zeb with his prod, and Zeb jumping three feet in the air, holding his leg.

Sabine quickly ran out of the Lasat's cabin and into her own when she heard the big humanoid come down the hall. But she wasn't fast enough. Zeb saw her dart across the way.

"Sabine? What were you doing in my cabin?" Zeb growled as he entered his room. Upon seeing the mural of the embarrassing incident, Zeb stormed over and pounded on Sabine's door. When the Mandalorian opened the door, Zeb made an angry lunge for the girl, but Sabine dove through the big Lasat's legs and down the ladder into the cargo hold.

She pushed past Kanan, who had been organizing supplies, and down the ramp.

"Sabine? Where are you going?" Kanan called after the 13-year-old, standing from where he had been kneeling on the durasteel floor.

"No time to explain!" Sabine yelled back as a giant purple mass of fur came barreling down the ladder and shoved his way past the confused Jedi-in-hiding.

"Zeb?" He asked.

"Not now, Kanan," Zeb shot back, free following the brightly-colored teen down the ramp. Kanan stared after his crew-mates in disbelief as Hera descended the ramp.

"What's with them?" She asked, turning to face Kanan.

"No idea," Kanan replied, shrugging. The two turned and watched as Zeb chased Sabine, who was shrieking and laughing, into the dusky Lothal night.


	4. Rule 3

Rule 3: Paint stays out of the cockpit. Period.

"Kanan! Zeb! I need you on the turrets!" Hera shouted as she rushed to the cockpit. Another blast from a TIE rocked the _Ghost_ as Hera quickly slid into the pilot's seat.

"Sabine! Up here with me! I need a co-pilot!" Hera yelled. The fourteen-year-old blasted through the doors. Hera turned to see her, and her eyes fell upon the seat behind the co-pilot chair. Orange pinstripes had been painted up the length of the back, black and white checkered patterns marred the bottom of the back rest, and a smear of purple accented it all, just off to the side of the orange. Hera narrowed her eyes.

"What is that?" She asked as Sabine plopped into the co-pilot's seat next to her. Another plasma bolt sent the _Ghost_ into a tailspin.

"Um, fly now, talk later!" Sabine shouted as she flipped a toggle to switch to auxiliary power.

"Oh, right," Hera whirled and her hands flew back to the yoke, flying with practiced ease and excited adrenaline. Sabine worked furiously at the nose guns below the cockpit, clearing a path for the ship to jump to hyperspace and get the heck out of there.

"Hera! I don't see any more! Can you make the jump yet?" Kanan's voice sounded through the internal comm.

"Already on it!" Hera shouted back, throwing the hyperdrive lever forward into light speed. Audible sighs were heard all throughout the _Ghost_ as Hera leaned back in her seat. Using a toe of her boot, she swiveled towards Sabine.

"Care to explain where the paint on the chair came from?" Hera asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Sabine blushed.

"Um, Zeb?"

"Wrong answer." Hera scowled.

"C'mon, Hera, we need to spice up the cockpit a little! It's so dull!" Sabine protested. "Plus, that's the seat I usually sit in, and I like color."

"Fine," Hera said grudgingly. "It can stay, but do not paint any other part of _my_ cockpit. Got it?" Sabine nodded, her bangs knocking into her eyes. She tucked them behind her ear as she met Hera's eyes.

"Got it."

...

Hey guys! It's my one year anniversary for Fanfiction tomorrow! Yay! I have a fun oneshot for each Star Wars fandom (originals, Clone Wars, Rebels) ready to be released tomorrow in celebration. Make sure you check them out!


	5. Rule 4

Rule 4: Don't touch the droid. Just don't.

"Heraaaa! Help meeee!" Sabine shrieked as she ran down the hall toward the cockpit, an angry droid on her tail, splattering paint on the the walls and floors behind him

Hera poked her head out of the cockpit, viewing the scene with practiced calm. The 15-year-old, it appeared, had painted Chopper bright yellow and purple, and the droid wad not happy about it.

"Chopper!" Hera said sharply, and the droid screeched to a halt. "Sabine!" Hera turned to the teen.

"What?" Sabine asked innocently.

"Did you paint my droid?" Hera settled her fists on her hips.

"Um, yes?" Sabine offered, shrugging impishly.

"So, why do you think he was chasing you?"

"Cause I painted him?" Sabine smiled and threw a glance at Chopper who, if he had eyes, would certainly be glaring at her now.

"That's exactly right. Now please clean him up. It's a good thing the paint is still wet." Hera turned to leave.

"Wait! Hera, he hit me with his arm! I've got a bruise the size of Mandalore!" Sabine said, pulling the hem of her shirt up to reveal a fist sized bruise above her hip. Hera whirled on Chopper.

"Do you see that? How many times have I told you to stop hitting people?" Hera scolded angrily, shaking a gloved finger at the droid. Chopper snapped something in binary.

"No, don't you dare give me backtalk. That's not acceptable!" Hera glared at the droid. "And you!" She whirled on Sabine. "This wouldn't have happened if you hadn't painted him in the first place."

Sabine flushed. "I'll clean 'im up," she said, rubbing her arms as if she were cold. "If he'll let me," she muttered under her breath.

"Oh, he'll let you. Trust me, he don't want to be painted anymore than you want a scolding. So get to it."

"Aye, aye Captain. Come on, Chop." Sabine waved a hand at the droid and walked back down the hall.


	6. Rule 5

Rule 5: Hair paint is strictly for your hair only.

"Sabine!" Kanan's irritated voice rang through the _Ghost,_ followed by a string of angry curses. "What have you done to me?"

Sabine came padding down the hall calmly, entering Kanan's quarters, where the door stood open. "Yes, Kanan?" The 15-year-old asked innocently, clasping hands behind her back. Kanan took a deep breath.

"Did you do this?" He asked, pointing to the stripe of lime green in his hair. Sabine nodded.

"Yup." She giggled. Kanan huffed.

 _"Why?"_

"Because green is your color," Sabine said as Kanan shouldered past her and walked out. Sabine trotted after him like an energetic puppy.

"We'll see what Hera has to say about that," Kanan muttered, sighing. He walked to the common room to find Hera reading something on a datapad.

"Hera?" Kanan asked.

"Yes, luv?" she replied without looking up. Kanan blushed as he said,

"Um, I'm not sure what to do with this," he gestured to his hair as Hera glanced up. She giggled.

"Did you do that?" she asked, setting her datapad on the table and standing up.

"Um, no. Your miscreant of a child did," Kanan replied. "And I have no idea how to get it out."

Hera quirked a brow. "My "miscreant of a child"?"

"Sabine." Kanan jabbed a thumb backwards and pointed at the teen behind him. Hera crossed her arms and frowned at the girl.

"That wasn't cool," Hera said. "But, I have to admit, green is your color, dear," she patted Kanan's cheek and walked away.

"Sabine, the hair paint stays in your hair only," Hera called over her shoulder as she headed for the cockpit.

"You got it, Captain! And it's called hair _dye!"_

"Whatever!"

...

Dream Plane: Hi! Rebels was kindof a dumb show, but I loved Sabine too. Her family is as dysfunctional as ever XD I think Season 3 focuses a lot on her family, or Season 4? (It was the one when she had purple and white hair, that I know XD)

Okay, people, Ezra should be making an appearence in the next chapter!


	7. Rule 6

Teresa-Spaniacs: (I hope I spelled that right) that she is :)

Rule 6: Don't leave paint jars open when the _Ghost_ is in the air.

The newly crowned "Spectre Six" entered the cockpit and sat down behind the co-pilot's chair, gazing dreamily out the viewscreen at the blue hyperspace streaks. Kanan glanced backward at the young man and did a double take.

"Um, what happened to you?" He asked, his eyebrows quirking. Hera spun around and looked. She put a hand over her mouth.

"Oh my."

"'Bine dumped paint on me," Ezra replied, giggling gently and resting his chin in his hands. Ezra wasn't kidding. Purple and red paint mixed in his hair, making the strands stick together in clumps. Yellow paint splattered his jacket, and there was blue on his boots and pants.

"That was uncalled for," Hera said, frowning. "You should clean up. You're getting paint everywhere."

"Oh, it is everywhere," Ezra muttered, "When you jumped to lightspeed, her paint flew everywhere. It's all over the table, and the floor and the wall and her...her," Ezra rambled, obviously smitten.

"Ughhh. I am going to have a talk with Sabine," Hera said, getting up, and walking out on the cockpit.

"And you might want to go clean up and change," Kanan said. "Hera isn't going to like it if you get paint all over her cockpit."

"Got it," Ezra mumbled, ambling out of the cockpit, sighing dreamily. Kanan shook his head. Meanwhile, Hera reached the common room to find Sabine wiping up the last of the paint spatters from the floor. Leaping to her feet, Sabine started explaining quickly.

"I know what you're going to say, and before you start to lecture, I didn't mean to and I didn't get a warning that we were jumping so soon!" The 16-year-old shouted frantically.

Hera took a deep breath. "I know it was an accident, and it's okay. I'm glad it wasn't to big of a mess."

"Yeah, me too," Sabine said. "But... Ezra's kinda covered in it."

"Yes, I noticed that. He'll be fine, although his clothes might be stained."

Sabine smiled sheepishly. "Yeah... Sorry about that."

"It's okay, kid. Just no more open paint jars when the ship's in flight, okay?"

"Got it."

"Good. Now I have to go find something for Ezra to wear."


	8. Rule 7

Rule 7: Painting the outside of the _Ghost_ is off limits. You do, you die.

"Hera, can I paint a picture of us on the _Ghost's_ hull?"

" _Absolutely not."_

...

'Nuff said.


	9. Rule 8

Rule 8: Do not paint the _Phantom_ either.

"What about on the _Phantom?"_

 _"Absoultely not."_

 _..._

'Nuff said again.


	10. Rule 9

_Yay, last chapter! Hope you enjoy!_

Rule 9: No explosive paint anywhere near a fire source.

"Sabine...What are you doingggg?" Ezra asked nervously, scooting away from the 16-year-old.

"Relax, Ezra, I'm just mixing paints."

"Um, and you're making them into bombs and you're right next to the bonfire." Ezra scooted farther away.

"And your point is?" Sabine asked, bent over her project intently.

"If you knock it in the fire, you're gonna make it explode!" Ezra exclaimed, wrapping his arms around his knees protectively."

"He has a good point," Kanan piped up from the other side of the camp fire, where Hera was asleep with her head on his shoulder. Zeb poked at the coals with a stick.

"Yes, he does," he agreed. "C'mon, why dontcha move back a little, kid?"

"Relax, guys, it's fine." Sabine glanced up and tucked her feet under her. As she did this, her toe nudged one of the paint bottles and it tipped over. Right into the fire.

"Look out!" Ezra shrieked, leaping backwards as a loud bang sounded and paint and fire shot sky high. All five were thrown backwards a ways from the fire, landing hard on their rears. Nothing was gained from this except a few singed eyebrows and paint spattered all over their clothes, but needless to say, no one was happy.

"What in tarnation happened?" Hera exclaimed, rubbing her eyes.

"Sabine knocked explosive paint into the fire," Ezra explained, wiping the paint from his clothing as best he could.

"On accident!" Sabine shouted.

"It was stupid anyway. I told you to move back," Zeb said, the tip of his left ear smoldering.

"Yeah, um, sorry." Sabine shrugged sheepishly and smirked.

"Sorry doesn't cut it. Guess who gets to do the laundry for the next few weeks?" Kanan asked, looking down at his paint sodden clothing.

Sabine sighed but nodded.

"Fair enough, fair enough."

Teresa spanics: heehee, sorry bout that! I'm so happy you're enjoying this!

Knightlawn: thanks so much!


End file.
